My son lives on the opposite side of the clock.

 

I’m asleep, he’s awake.

 

I’m awake, he’s asleep.

 

I worry when I don’t know where he is when I awake at 4am, look out my window and don’t see his car home.

 

But then I remember.

 

I remember he has his own path.

 

A roller coaster path that many times is cluttered with crisis and turmoil, but always growth and success.

I remember my way is not his way and his way is not my way.

 

I remember that worrying is using my imagination to create something I don’t want.

 

So I go back to sleep.

Then he walks in the door, the dog barking lets me know he’s home.

I breathe easier.

I make him a cup of tea and we talk for a couple of minutes.

He goes to sleep.

I go to work.

 

My son lives on the opposite side of the clock.

 

Free to be.